


When the Day Met the Night

by NerdAlert (alltimelisa)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A/B/O, Everyone Is Alive, M/M, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2019-10-20 02:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17613887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltimelisa/pseuds/NerdAlert
Summary: A not very accurate historical/ regency(ish) era fic. No one truly thought the loud mouthed, often mischievous, and always defiant crowned prince would present as an omega. His lithe frame, and pale unmarked skin had all been dismissed as a child not yet grown into his manhood. This changed when the frost had barely cleared from the grounds and the boy was thrown into a false heat, his sweet smell permeating the castle leaving no doubt as to what his presentation was.Stiles has just presented as an omega, and as the only heir to Beacon he must find an alpha to mate withor give up his rights to the throne.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is complete! I will be updating once a week or so until everything is posted. The first few chapters are beta'd (Thanks Trisha!) but any mistakes are because of me. This will have a happy ending, with Derek and Stiles as the end goal. Thanks for reading!

      The weak sunlight shone through the windows casting eerie shadows down the walls. The Room seemed to carry a chill, despite the amount people filling the space. Before Stiles had presented he had no feelings about this room, one of many within the castle with nothing made to stand out about it besides the usual opulence that came with being a part of the royal household, and Stiles had long since gotten used to the unnecessary opulence of being royal. Now though, Stiles began to hate The Room, and hate was very quickly becoming too weak a word to describe his distaste for the room. He had presented a mere 6 months ago, hardly a blip in time, and yet everything had drastically changed. 

 

      No one truly thought the loud mouthed, often mischievous, and always defiant crowned prince would present as an omega. His lithe frame, and pale unmarked skin had all been dismissed as a child not yet grown into his manhood. This changed when the frost had barely cleared from the grounds and the boy was thrown into a false heat, his sweet smell permeating the castle leaving no doubt as to what his presentation was. Since then the castle had been inundated with alphas hoping to marry, to  _ breed _ him and claim  _ his _ throne for themselves. None of these alphas cared for him, they only wanted the power and perks that came from being royal.

 

     The Room was in the west wing and had not been used by anyone but the maids trading a bit of gossip, or lovers whose parents would never approve of their union. Stiles had chosen a room haphazardly, knowing that if he did not then the council certainly would, and that would be far more ostentatious and uncomfortable than the entire dreadful process already was. As if he weren’t busy enough as crowned prince of the second largest nation in Calia he now had to sit in The Room every day to meet with prospective alphas. 

 

     The Room itself was unremarkable, it was of average size for the castle. It held a medium sized table made of a dark walnut wood, behind the table were several bookshelves that held the books no one bothered to read anymore. Stiles sat at the center of the table, his royal entourage filling in the spaces around him. The newest alpha to come calling was a middle aged man with an attractive streak of gray running through his hair. He stood in front of them, boasting about whatever he thought Stiles would most like to hear. It was quite unfortunate that the gray in his hair was the only attractive thing about him Stiles thought unkindly. 

 

     Stiles shifted in the hard wooden chair, the provided cushions acting as little more than decoration, and doing nothing to stop his butt from going numb. He shifts again ignoring the dark look Lydia shoots him, he has had an itch between his shoulder blades for the past 20 minutes and if he can just get the right angle the awful carvings on the chair will solve his most immediate problem. As he goes to shift again he hears the alpha clear his throat. Pasting on a smile and sitting up straight hopefully giving off a regal air stiles tilts his head and looks up from beneath his lashes at the alpha. Stiles had quickly learned that where mouthing off failed, a demure look could often get an alpha to forget everything, including the coin in their pockets. 

 

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that,” Stiles says hoping the man takes the bait and forgets that stiles has all but ignores him. He could not bear to sit through another lecture on the importance of finding the right alpha to help him rule. If it weren't for the stupid laws about omega rulers put in place to “protect the weak” stiles wouldn't even have to worry about marriage until he was 21. Pushing the bitter thoughts away stiles tunes back into what the alpha was asking him. 

 

“If your grace would allow, I would love to go out riding with you tomorrow,” the man asked, having clearly done his research knowing that Stiles loved to ride and went everyday the weather allowed. His smug grin did nothing to endear him to stiles, he would not be so easily swayed by mere breadcrumbs. 

Stiles rolled his eyes inwardly while offering the alpha a bland smile. He could hardly sit through the mans proposal and he was expected to give up the one thing that truly bought him joy to appease the alphas ego. 

 

“I do apologize, sir” Stiles simpers rising, nearly stumbling as his left leg had fallen asleep during the mans long winded proposal. “I am quite busy and will be unable to join you for a ride.” Lydia pointedly coughs and stiles loses the battle of hiding his distaste for this dreadful process before training kicks in and he schools his face back into what can be passed off as a smile. 

 

“However I would love it if you could join the king and I for dinner tonight. Unless you need to get back to your home?” Stiles says hopefully. 

 

“I would love to” the alpha says before nodding and heading out the door. He is barely out of the door when Scott breaks rank and complains loudly, 

 

“What a pompous ass. He didn't even bow to you!” Lydia delicately opens her fan while shooting stiles a displeased look. 

 

“Cousin, it would do you well to at least fake interest in the suitors. I'd rather not have to deal with anymore hurt alpha egos. Besides his family supplies the most delightful fruits from the east, I'd hate to lose them due to your childish behavior.” Lydia cuts him one last narrow eyed glance before sweeping out of the room, her skirts trailing across the floor to rustle disappointedly at stiles as she exits.

 

     Stiles huffs, dejectedly trailing behind her, he hates when she is correct. Scott falls into step behind stiles, following him as he exits The Room. The church bell chimes three times and stiles lets out a particularly put upon sigh. It is just his luck that the alpha left him just in time for his etiquette lessons with Harris. Turning away from the direction of the stables Stiles heads deeper into the castle, resigned to another day wasted on ‘omega’ duties. 

 

——

 

“Prince Mieczyslaw,” Harris bows shallowly as stiles enters the smaller library of the castle. It had been the room his mothered preferred to be in during her down time and Stiles always felt closer to her in this room. “You’re late.”

 

Stiles ignores that Harris doesn’t bow as low as his rank dictates, far too used to his brand of disrespect. Moving further into the room to have a seat in his favored chair, one made of well worn wood when deep cushions that cradle him and always smells of his mother’s favorite perfume, he waves a hand dismissively at Harris. 

 

“I was meeting with another alpha, I couldn’t exactly leave in the middle of him extolling his many virtues,” stiles huffs indignantly. 

 

“Sit up!” Harris barks. “You’ll never find a suitable mate if you continue to behave like this,” he continues with a pointed look at stiles, who is sitting with one leg thrown over the arm of the chair while the other is extended towards the ground, his neck perched on the opposite arm while his back curves in what has to be an uncomfortable position. 

 

     Stiles sits up unbothered, Harris has been his teacher for many years and he had grown quite used to the mans distasteful nature. If he weren’t the crowned prince of a beacon he’s sure he would have been leaving every lesson with welts from the mans ruler. As much as he dislikes the man he has no real reason to replace him and as such they are stuck with one another, to eternally grate on the others nerves. Stiles smoothes down his deep brown vest and places his hands in his lap. He had chosen to wear his cream riding pants and brown riding boots rather optimistically this morning, but as pale light coming through the window weakens he knows that it has been in vain. Sighing he focuses in on whatever Harris is saying, better to get the get the lesson over quickly so he can have some free time before running to the next thing requiring the prince's time. 

 

“You will now be meeting with me twice daily as a result. Now-“

 

“What do you mean by increasing my lessons?” Harris, ever the proper gentleman doesn’t sigh at stiles outburst, but it is a very near thing. 

 

“Prince Mieczyslaw, had you been listening you would have heard that we must prepare for your ball. It is in two months time and-“ 

 

“What ball? My father hasn’t mentioned a ball to me.”

 

“If this behavior continues you will have thrice daily lessons! It is rude for an omega to speak out of turn and you will learn your place before the ball or so help me,” Harris hisses out between clenched teeth. As a beta he had no real power over stiles and it rankled that he never got the respect he sought. Taking a deep breath Harris looks over stiles shoulder, smoothing down imaginary wrinkles in his hideous plaid vest that was at least two seasons out of fashion. 

 

“I am done with you today. Meet with me after breakfast tomorrow to begin your training for the debutante ball. Be sure to be on your best behavior, I won’t have you sullying my reputation due to your slovenly habits,” he spits before getting up and striding out of the room. 

 

Stiles sinks back into his chair, all thoughts of good posture crowded out of his mind at hearing the words ‘debutante’ ball. Harris may be cruel but he wouldn’t lie about something like this, loving any chance to show off his royal pupil. 

 

Stiles felt sick, was his father meaning to sell him off to the highest bidder, not even a full year after his presentation? Scott steps forward to interrupt Stiles melancholy thoughts, the weakening light illuminating the frown on his face, only furthering to give him the appearance of a puppy, she lies would normally make a joke at his expense but he is too disturbed to manage. 

 

“It might not be as bad as you think,” Scott murmurs hesitantly. “You were going to haven’t have a debutante ball anyways,” he shrugs. 

 

“You know that if I had been an alpha we would have held a ball for me in the summer, Scott.” Scott winced at the harshness of his words. As sheltered as stiles was, they couldn’t pretend that he didn’t notice the way omegas were treated differently. 

 

“Why now? In two months time the roads will be filled with snow, only the most desperate will come to stake their claim,” stiles mutters angrily. “Am I to be given away to whatever beast arrives?”

 

“Look on the bright side, this will give you enough time to choose an alpha you like before your first heat is scheduled to hit.” Scott smiles dopily, reaching out to give stiles a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Stiles freezes, as he processes what Scott has just said. Choosing a mate at the ball would give him exactly 2 months before his heat hit, meaning he could give birth to before two years have gone by. 

 

“Does he think he can just pair me with any alpha so that I can be bred provide a  _ true heir _ ? Now that I’m an omega I’m only good enough for one thing?” Scott splutters incoherently, that wasn’t what he meant at all and before Scott can attempt to soothe stiles he is out the door on a rampage headed towards the kings quarters. 

 

—-

 

“I'm sorry Prince Mieczyslaw, his royal highness is meeting with the council and he asked not to be disturbed.” 

 

    Stiles turned around without further comment the anger having left him as quickly as it arrived. He knew from experience that there was no way the knight, Parrish, would let him into the room. He was resigned to having to speak with his father at dinner, while not the best place to have this conversation he refused to wait until it was convenient for his father. 

 

As he turned the corner heading towards his quarters he bumps into Lydia. 

 

“Cousin,” he says in greeting accepting the proffered arm and matching her leisurely pace. 

 

“I see you’ve heard the news.”

 

“That I'm to be sold like chattel?” Stiles snorts.

 

“Don’t be so crass, this is an opportunity,” she says not unkindly. 

 

“An opportunity for what? For some alpha I hardly know to come in and try to take  _ my _ crown? To treat me as nothing more than an accessory to be showed off? I see nothing here to be happy about!”

 

“You do know that you would have had to mate were you an alpha, yes?”

 

“I’d have at least be allowed some time. I haven’t even had my first heat and I’m supposed to find a mate?!”

 

“No one says you have to choose a mate at this ball, it’s just an introduction to society. Besides it’s better to start the process now.”

 

“I don’t want to be mated now,” stiles whines childishly. 

 

Lydia pulls him to a stop, her grip on his wrist cutting off the circulation to his arm, and Stiles realizes that they’re only around the corner from people his rooms. 

 

“This may not be what you had wanted cousin, but this is what you have. The council will not let you rule without an alpha mate, you know that I am right. Look for someone you can stand to spend the rest of your life with sad, someone who won’t stifle you. You don’t need to find love, Stiles, just someone who won’t stand in your way.” 

 

Lydia’s voice cracks on the last word and Stiles thinks about how her parents had sent her away when she refused to marry an alpha 30

     Years older than her. He already had a beta wife and his last omega had died under mysterious circumstances. Stiles had done all he could to bring her to the castle instead of her being sent to the nunnery but they both knew it only worked because he was the crowned prince. Were it not for the connections her parents would see her dead before having an unruly omega. While stiles was the crowned prince of beacon they both knew that all of the liberties that he had been previously afforded would not be given now that he had presented omega. 

 

Stiles nods in agreement, not fully ready to accept his fate. Gently pulling his wrist from her grasp Stiles nods again before turning and heading to his room. 

 

——

 

     Stiles dresses for dinner in a daze, no more prepared for it than when Lydia had spoken to him hours earlier. He carelessly throws on black pants and pairs it with a white shirt. Frowning down at the outfit Stiles thinks to himself that looks like one of the serving staff but he dismisses it with a shrug. He has no one to impress, the court is far too used to his lack of fashion sense, and Lydia for all her misgivings about choosing an alpha, they both know that the one currently visiting will not be his choice in spouse. 

 

     Stiles heads through the maze like halls of the castle on autopilot and Scott falls into step behind him. For once Scott picks up on his mood and doesn’t pester Stiled with any questions. They come to the door of the dining hall though stiles has no recollection of the walk to it. Taking one last breath Stiles enters the room and promptly trips over a server walking by holding a tray of goblets. 

 

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” They both exclaim at the same time. 

 

“I crashed into you please don’t worry,” Stiles says helping the server up. The server casts her eyes to the ground and dips into a low bow. 

 

“Please forgive me your grace, I am new here and haven’t quite gotten used to things. I should have watched where I was going.” 

 

“Think nothing of it, please forgive my clumsiness” stiles says with a charming smile, ignoring the titters of the court, all of whom were far too used to him causing some sort of commotion. The young girl nods again before skittering away, her skirts staining red as they drag through the spilled wine on her way out. 

 

Stiles quickly makes his way to sit to the left of his father. The right hand seat had remained empty since his mother passed and stiles heart always twinged uncomfortably in his chest when he entered the dining hall.   

 

John gives stiles a pointed look before serving himself a large slice of roast pork from the platter in front of him, at his cue the rest of the guests begin to dig into the the food near them, piling their plates high with the best food beacon has to offer. 

 

“So Daddio, is there any news you’d like to share with me,” Stiles asks ignoring the plate in front of him to rest his chin in his hand as looks with false innocence at his father. 

 

“I’m sure Harris must have told you about the ball by now.”

 

“And you couldn’t tell me the council was trying to sell me off to the highest bidder?!” He says dropping all pretense of playing nice. He thought he had gotten over his anger earlier but it was quickly returning to him. 

 

“No one is selling you, Stiles” the king huffs “the council allowed me to put off your ball as we got used to-“

 

“Used to what? Your pathetic son being an omega?”

 

“Enough Stiles. You are my son and I love you but you are also the crowned prince of Beacon. You don’t need to find a mate immediately but the council needs to know that you are at least looking.” 

 

“I am looking!” Stiles shouts drawing the stares of everyone in the room. He flushed and lowers his voice. 

 

“Why do you think I allow these alphas to keep visiting,” he says gesturing towards the alpha currently sitting one table over, currently trying, quite unsuccessfully, to woo Lady Carissa. 

 

John looks at Stiles and rolls his eyes, 

“He’s not even sitting at our table Stiles. Most of them you send home after hearing their pledge. The council can tell that you are not making an effort, and they won’t allow it to go on for much longer.” Stiles looks down dejectedly, he prides himself on being sneaky and to think everyone saw through his, admittedly flimsy, ruse. 

 

“Fine. We’ll have the ball then, but I make no promises that I’ll find my mate there. 

 

“They’re not asking for a miracle, Stiles, just that you try.” John drops a reassuring hand on Stiles shoulder. He nods and allows his father to drop the subject, after all the invitations were already out and there was nothing he could do about it now. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles makes a friend and preparation for the ball begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking for a beta! I keep noticing typos/errors after I've posted so please have mercy on me. Otherwise, let me know if you like it!

     The sun was barely peeking over the mountains in the distance when Stiles stepped outside of his rooms. He was in his favorite riding clothes, worn and comfortable from years of use. The seamstress always threatened to burn the old clothes but as long as she didn’t see Stiles in them the old woman always forgot.

     Stiles walked carefully but brusquely down the hallways, taking care to keep the heels of his riding boots from clacking too loudly on the castles stone floors. He nodded to the familiar guards as he passed but stopping for no one. As he reaches the main entrance Stiles stops and takes a deep breath, allowing the cold air to coat his throat and invigorate him.

Taking no more time to enjoy the stillness of a morning not yet begun, he heads towards the stables, his boots crunching softly in the frosted grass as he cuts across the lawn. No matter what, Stiles knows that he will feel better after a ride on his mare.

     Stiles rides quickly and without care as he traverses the grounds , an unknown guard keeping pace with him. He misses riding like this, before his presentation no one cared that he would stumble through the castle sweat covered and exhausted, but now he must worry about keeping every strand of hair in place, and maintaining the proper omega etiquette. Stiles huffs audibly before urging the horse faster, regrettably named Shadow from when he was still a babe and lacked creativity.

     As they approach the small pond that sits on the castle grounds Stiles allows the mare to slow to a leisurely walk. He is already    feeling better as he knew a ride would do. Tugging gently on the reigns he brings Shadow to a halt before gracefully swinging his legs over and hopping down. Stripping off his boots Stiles pads barefoot across the cold ground and dips his toes into the pond. Stiles allows himself to fall back and starfish his arms out and think.

     Despite knowing for a few months that he was an omega it had yet to sink in, that is until he was faced with a debutante ball. He had somehow believed that if he ignored the giant animal in the room that he’d never have to be faced with finding a mate and going through heat. But now he had to be realistic, he would have to find a mate and by the ball, anything less would resort in the council attempting to take the crown.

Stiles had always been doubted by the court with his attention difficulties and loud mouth but to be an omega and refuse a mate would be the last straw. The council would strip him of his title and his father would be unable to do anything about it.

     Stiles squints as the sun becomes more prominent in the sky, pushing out from behind the clouds and he knows what he must do. He must actively look for a mate and hope that he isn’t stuck with someone only interested in a docile omega to breed and control. Stiles sits up kicking his feet through the water. If he was going to be forced into matehood then he would damn well do it his way.

——-

“You’re late,” Harris says not even bothering to bow. “And you smell horrid.”

Stiles shrugs, ignoring the disgusted look thrown his way.

“So what’s on the schedule for today teach?”

“Today we will be discussing how to approach an alpha that you’re interested in.” Stiles hums in acknowledgement waving a hand to indicate that he should continue.

Harris rolls his eyes, and Stiles feels a moment of pride that he has single handedly whittled down the mans manners to blatantly roll his eyes in the presence of royalty.

     Stiles settles in for a long and boring lesson but is determined to learn as much as possible. He spares a moment of sorrow for having never bothered to learn about rules and laws pertaining only to omegas, having thought for so long he would be an alpha, but now was the time to focus, there was no time for self pity.

     When the lesson ends Stiles takes a moment to stretch before settling in with as many books as he can find about omegas. The list is woefully short but Stiles sits down prepared to learn as much as possible anyways. It feels as though hardly an hour has passed when someone knocks on the library door. Stiles blinks the grit from his eyes, lifting his neck up and rubbing the soreness away. The half moon is shining weakly through the window panes, and someone has lit the lamps, he gets the distinct feeling that he has been studying for more than an hour.

The servant that Stiles had knocked over during last night's dinner pokes her head around the door.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but his highness instructed me to bring you dinner,” she says while looking down.

“Please bring it in, I am sorry for this. I’m sure you have better things to do than bring me dinner,” Stiles says self deprecatingly as he runs an awkward hand through his hair. The blond girl gives a mischievous smirk that belies her previously shy disposition.

“A servants work is never done, your highness,” She says with a mock bow and Stiles burst into laughter.

“What is your name, I must know who I am planning to have beheaded after all.”

“Erica, sir,” she answers suddenly nervous. Her mother had always told her that her mouth would get her into trouble and she hoped today wasn’t the day.

“Erica please join for me for dinner, I am in need of some good company,” Stiles says taking the tray from her hands and placing it on the table.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. I must be getting back to the kitchens and-”

“Please, I insist,” Erica doesn’t know why but she decides to sit down. If she is going to be beheaded then she might as well do it for fraternizing with a prince.

     After dinner Stiles and Erica sit talking and he thinks what a great fit she would be in court if only she had been born to nobles instead of a family of bakers. Erica watches Stiles face, the sadness and anger displayed as he gets lost in thought and reminds herself this is not some servant boy she is sitting with but the crowned prince of Beacon. She clears her throat and begins to gather their dishes.

“I must be going now your highness,” she says her eyes cast downwards and Stiles ruthlessly wishes for the smart and incredibly fierce girl he was talking to to return. Knowing that he shouldn’t have pushed her to eat with him he sighs but allows her to clean up. No matter what he wishes she is a servant and he is the prince, there are some things he simply cannot change.

“Thank you for allowing me to have dinner with you Erica, I truly enjoyed it.”

“It was no problem at all, sir.” She curtsies before scurrying out the door and Stiles heads to bed more troubled than ever.  
\-------------

     Stiles shoots up in bed to find Scott hovering creepily over him, with a huge smile on his face. Groaning he throws himself back down, flinging the covers over his head knowing that it won’t deter Scott. Harris had to go back to his home for a few days and Stiles was hoping to enjoy the days lounging around the castle.

“So, is there anything you would like to tell me” Scott asks dragging out the ‘o’ in 'so'.

“No, but I am sure there is something you would like to tell me,” Stiles says from under his blankets.

“Why did I hear that you spent dinner with the new servant girl? Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone,” Scott questions as he rips the blankets off of Stiles, exposing him to the frigid morning air. Stiles curses and flails around as Scott stands off to the side cackling.

“I’m going to have you fed to the dogs,” Stiles mutters angrily before resigning himself to being awake for the day.

“You don’t even have dogs, now tell me,” Scott says nonchalantly as he begins to make up Stiles bed. Although his job as a knight only requires he protect Stiles from danger, he finds helping by doing other tasks makes him feel a lot more useful.

“There is nothing to tell, she sat with me while I ate dinner, she didn’t spend my heat with me.” He rolls his eyes, forcing his legs into pants with a minimal amount of flailing. Grabbing a warm sweater Stiles quickly pull sit on over his head and hopes it looks good because he is not changing. Someone knocks on the door as Stiles is sat on the floor yanking a pair of boots up.

“I called for breakfast, it is past noon, I figured you would be hungry,” Scott says while looking away. Stiles knows when his best friend is scheming but is too tired and caffeine deprived to care. He calls for the server to come in and moves to pull on the other shoe. A quiet snicker poorly disguised as a cough draws his attention to the entrance of his room, it is the servant, Erica, from last night.

“Haha, Erica, I’d like to see you pull these on while standing up,” Stiles snarks before standing up.

“You could have used your chair perhaps, Sti-,” She pauses and Stiles watches as she eyes Scott before continuing “your highness.”

“Oh don’t worry about him, this is Scott, my nosy best friend,” Stiles says gesturing at Scott. He pulls the tray from Erica’s hands and brings it to his table. Scott sits down and digs in without hesitation. Erica looks at him in shock, and Stiles laughs at her gape mouthed look.

“He’s a horrible excuse for a prince, always treats us lowly servants with kindness,” Scott says spewing food as he talks with is mouth full.

“I would offer you breakfast but I’m afraid there won’t be any left,” Stiles says rolling his eyes. Erica laughs before excusing herself.

“Dude, she’s hot!”

“Scott, we’re just friends. Plus she’s a beta and a servant. If I wanted to give up my throne there are easier ways to do it.” Scott frowns at Stiles in confusion.

“But dude, she’s clearly into you.”

“Scotty, it doesn’t matter. We are just friends, and it is all we’ll ever be. Now leave some of that ham for me.”

\---------

     As the weeks go by Erica and Stiles became close friends, Erica and Lydia even closer. Any crush that Erica may have harbored for Stiles quickly vanished after the first time she was required to wash his soiled clothing. The smell alone had been enough to turn her away from food for the rest of the day. The ball was mere weeks away and Stiles and his friends were found lounging in his rooms by the fire.

“So, have you figured out a plan to snag an amazing alpha,” Erica asks while lazily tossing nuts across the room with surprising accuracy into Scotts mouth.

“I Still don’t know. Is it too much to ask that a devastatingly handsome alpha just falls into my lap,” Stiles sighs, flopping over dramatically onto his back with his arms and legs splayed out. He just barely avoids toppling over the massive plate of food that Erica had brought up under the pretense of working.

“Yes. Besides looks won’t matter if you marry a tyrant,” Lydia points out. She is laid out on a long couch fanning herself. and Stiles thinks she looks like a painting.

     Stiles rolls over and props his head up his hands before leveling Lydia with a look,  
“So what should I do? How can I ensure that I find an alpha that I will grow to love and who will love this country? I refuse to marry if they are not good for Beacon, but I also want to be in love? Am I just being naive?” The room falls silent, the previous warmth seeming to drain out in an instant. Scott awkwardly reaches over to pat at Stiles’ back.

“Well why not write out a list in what you want in an alpha,” Scott suggests.

“Yea,” Erica chimes in “then on the night of the ball we can help you weed out the asses.”

“This isn’t the worst idea that you have had,” Lydia says with a shrug. Stiles pops up with sudden enthusiasm. Research is his thing, they could totally do this!

“Well let’s get started then,” Stiles says with a tad too much enthusiasm. He runs around the room grabbing a pen and paper, his restless energy making it hard to look directly at him.

“Erica, you’re in charge of getting the guest list from the council. As a servant they’ll never suspect you of anything.” Erica nods with false bravado, Stiles may be a prince but if she were to get caught not even he would be able to save her from the councils wrath. They were put in place as a way to keep the royal family from having too much power and they would not take Stiles plan lightly, no matter what reasoning he has.

“Lydia and I will do some research and dig up dirt on the alphas from within the court. Scott you will get the information from the knights and servants, Erica can help you with that,” he looks around pleased. He may not know a lot going into the ball but this would do a lot in helping him feel more prepared.

“We shall meet again in a weeks time to share what we have found and weed out gossip from fact,” Lydia says rising from her couch. They all share a look before Lydia exits.

“Do you think this will really work?” Scott asks concern coating his voice.

“Yea, I mean, I don’t want any trouble with the council Stiles,” Erica says the only sign of worry is shown in her white knuckled grip clutching at her skirts.

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, Erica. We at least know some of the families that had to be invited and we can work from there,” Stiles says soothingly despite the disappointed look etched into the frown on his face. Erica straightens up and lifts her chin defiantly.

“I’ll do it. But if they kill me you are so dead,” she threatens with a small smile on her face.

\---------------

     Erica manages to get the guest list with minimal effort, and she is surprised at how easy it was. All it had taken was a low cut dress and plenty of leaning over to clean and the council had been sufficiently distracted. As she is heading to clean another room she bumps into Lydia, literally.

“Oh I am so sorry my Lady, please do forgive me,” She says while clumsily attempting to help Lydia up.

“Unhand me,” Lydia snarls and watches in satisfaction as the server slinks away. Brushing away imaginary dirt from her skirts Lydia secures the paper that had been slipped into her hand and continues walking. That night the list is returned without anyone aware that it had ever been missing in the first place.

\------------------

Before Stiles knows it is the night before the ball.

“I am so screwed. Most of these alphas are total asshats,” Stiles moans, running his fingers through his hair and tugging. The moon is already high in the sky, most of the castle having gone to sleep hours before. The hearth has a blazing fire, and Stiles curls his toes into the rug hoping to anchor himself. He knows that he should be asleep, they had already received alphas coming for the ball and he knew the seamstress would be in with first light to ensure he looks his best, but he can’t help but look over the notes one last time. They had gathered as much information as they could on the visiting alphas buts he still didnt feel like it was enough.

The door creaks open and Stiles whirls around eyes wide, pulse racing erratically as the dark shadow progresses into his room.

“Dude,” Scott says in a poor imitation of a whisper, “It’s me, Scott.”

“Oh my God! What are you doing here,” Stiles hisses.

“I figured you would still be up, I thought I’d come and keep you company.”

“Thanks man, but I’m fine. You should go get some rest. We have to be up early.”Stile says chuckling. He does not know if it his imagination or reality but he thinks he can see the sky beginning to pinken.

“Come on, you need at least a few hours of sleep, tomorrow will be a long day,” Scott says as he bundles Stiles towards his bed. He gently pulls the paper from his hand and puts it in his pocket.

“I’ve already tried, but I dont think-” Stiles sentence is interrupted by a huge yawn breaking across his face.

“Yeah, alright dude,” Scott says chuckling as he pushes Stiles onto his bed. Scott yanks the covers up over him and Stiles is asleep before the sheets have settled.


	3. Chapter 3

     Stiles suffers through the poking of the seamstress’ needle as she adds the finishing touches to his outfit with poor grace. He scowls and flinches only prolonging the routine as he keeps ‘messing up the lines’ whatever that means. It feels like forever before the stern woman is finally finished. Stiles lets out a sigh of relief only to be pushed in front of a vanity as someone starts fussing with his hair. He winces as the brush pulls at a particularly stubborn tangle, the day has only begun and he is already exhausted. As someone focuses on taking his hair a young woman approaches with creams and powders that she tells Stiles is for his face. 

 

“It looks as though you haven’t slept at all, we’ve got our work cut out for us. No one is going to want an omega looking like you,” she says with a blunt sort of kindness. He doesn’t think she means any harm but the unexpected words do sting. The woman looks at him before smiling, the warmth lightening her face and reminding him of his mother. 

 

“You’re quite handsome, Prince Mieczyslaw, but staying up all night does not enhance your looks.” Stiles nods in acquiescence, looking in the mirror to see the bags under his bloodshot eyes. He does not normally pay attention to his looks, as a prince he is guaranteed to marry someone so it has never truly mattered. 

 

     When they are finally finished Stiles feels like a new man. The tiredness in his face is hidden and he looks  _ good.  _ There is a healthy flush to his cheeks, rather than the paleness that comes with being cooped up inside the castle during the colder months. Some oil has been added to his lips to make them shine and his hair is styled artfully rather than sitting limply on his head. Something had been applied to his lashes making them seem impossibly long, sweeping against his cheeks when he blinks. 

 

“Wow, thank you so much,” Stiles says to the room. He may not be the most eager about finding an alpha but looking like  _ this _ will at least give him a fighting chance in choosing a good one. The room responds with murmurs of ‘no problem’ and soon enough he is left alone. The day has arrived and there is nothing he can do to escape his fate. 

* * *

 

 

     Scott knocks on the doors to Stiles rooms before poking his head through. Stiles waves him him before resuming his pacing. He’s pretty sure the seamstress would kill him if she knew that he was walking around sweating nervously in the outfit that she had meticulously planned and slaved over. 

 

“Hey, they’re ready for you in the ball,” Scott says with his voice lowered, almost as if he wants to avoid spooking Stiles. Though they both know that if he had wanted to run he would be long gone by now. Lucky for he council he could never do that to his dad. 

 

     Taking a deep breath Stiles straightens up and resists the urge to run his fingers through his hair. He would at the very least walk into the ball looking good before he let the nerves ruin it. Turning towards the door Stiles begins to walk towards his future, whatever that may be. 

 

* * *

 

 

    The doors to the ball are pushed open revealing dozens of the finest alphas in the world draped in their best finery. Pointed faces swivel towards the entrance and Stile stumbles forward. His eyes dart around seeing how well dressed everyone is. Stiles hands want to pluck at the fine deep blue fabric covering his torso but stops short. The shirt is tucked into a pair of charcoal grey pants but before he can further critique his look the man holding the door bellows out, 

 

“Prince Mieczyslaw, Crowned Prince of Beacon!” And Stiles sucks in a breath through his nose, walking forward with all the grace he can manage, which is to say not much at all. The hush that had fallen over the crowd slowly picks back up, people going back to their conversations as Stiles reaches the edge of the crowd. 

 

     Spotting Lydia in a stunning gown the color of copper Stiles almost begins to make his way over to her before he remembers his mission. He may not find an alpha tonight but he needs to at least make it look like it was a real effort on his part.  

 

     Stiles was hardly a few steps into the large room when an alpha stopped him by grabbing his arm as he walked by. Stiles can feel Scott’s warning growl rumbling through his back as the guard stepped forward to pry the alphas hand off of him. The alpha drops Stiles arm with smarmy grin. 

 

“My apologies, your highness,” he bows deeply giving Stiles a great view of his greasy hair,” I simply could not let the opportunity to meet such a beautiful omega pass me.”

 

“That is quite alright, I thank you for attending the ball,” Stiles says calmly hiding his unease for the overly touchy alpha. The alpha grasps Stiles hand, looking into his eyes, 

 

“I must say, I have never seen an omega quite as lovely as you, you must save a dance for me,” the dark haired alpha grins. Stiles looks at him and knows the flattery for what it is, he is being buttered up. The alpha has shown up in ill tailored clothing, looking as if it had belonged to someone else and he borrowed it. His dark hair is greasy, and his eyes belie his true feelings, showing no hint of interest in Stiles. 

 

“Sir, I do not even know your name, how can I save a dance for you,” Stiles asks flirtatiously. 

 

“I am Matt Daehler, son of Lord Daehler.”

 

“I will be sure to keep an eye out for you,” Stiles responds before moving along. He mentally added the man to the ‘absolutely not’ list in his mind.

 

     Despite Stiles’ best efforts much of the night continues meeting creepy alphas who are far more interested in Stiles’ status and money than they are him. 

 

     He spots Erica across the room carrying a tray of pastries. They are little dough balls baked until they are golden and covered in cheese and herbs, one of Stiles favorite. He quickly makes a beeline for her, dodging some of the more handsy alphas on the way. 

 

“Thank God you’re here, I’m dying out here. How’d you get in,” Stiles questions as his hand is reaching for one of the pastries. 

 

“Traded with one of the kitchen maids, had to beg her and promise to take on her laundry duties for the next month,” Erica scowls. In the winter they had to trek down to the river and haul water back to the castle. The buckets weighed a ton and after the first trip your hands felt like frozen blocks of ice. She was not looking forward to it. 

 

Stiles nods sympathetically, “Find anyone worthwhile yet?”

 

“Nope, they’re all dicks,” she huffs, ignoring the narrow eyed glare of one of the nobles wandering by. Before Stiles can respond he is interrupted by a surly alpha with angry eyebrows and an impressive scowl being dragged to him by another alpha. The alpha leading him is a woman who is tall and graceful, her hair has been swept elegantly to one side showing of her strong features. Her lips are pursed but it does nothing to take away from her easy beauty, her limbs are delicate, clothed in a deep green dress that floats around her as if by magic. It seems almost impossible but her companion is just as beautiful, if not more so. Stiles has no chance to gather his thoughts, the cheese pastry still filling his cheeks when the gorgeous alphas stop before him. 

 

“Hello Prince Mieczyslaw, I am Queen Laura Hale of Selenis, and this is my brother,” She steps to the side sweeping her arm out to show off Eyebrows, as Stiles had named him in his head “Prince Derek Hale.” The man gives a stilted bow and Stiles notes that they are about the same height. Despite the mans dark looks he is quite handsome, dressed in a shirt matching his sisters gown in a deep green fitted enough to show off his muscles. Stiles drags his eyes down and notes the black pants are also impeccably tailored and Stiles wouldn’t mind undressing him. He snaps out of his reverie when Erica’s unfairly sharp elbow catches him in the gut. He spits out part of his unfinished pastry while she smiles innocently and Eyebrows, Derek Stiles mentally corrects, gets a deeper wrinkle in his brow and scowls harder. Stiles quickly chokes down the rest of the pastry while brushing crumbs from his clothes, face flushed an unflattering shade of red . 

 

“I do apologize Your Highness, Prince Derek,” Stiles says bowing deeply. 

 

“Do not worry about it, I was hoping to introduce my brother to you, I believe you two would make quite the match.” 

 

“What makes you think so,” Stiles questions arching a skeptical brow before reaching for another pastry. 

 

“You both like riding, and being outdoors.” Stiles can hear the uncertainty in her voice but she raises her chin in defiance. He needs not respond as Derek does it for him. 

 

“There is more to a match than liking the outdoors Laura,” Derek says rolling his eyes. Stiles barely stops from responding in kind. 

 

“Well I’d hate to continue boring you prince Derek. It was nice meeting you both,” and with that he walks off into the crowd, mourning the pastries that are sure to be snatched up by some undeserving alpha now that he has stopped hovering protectively over them. 

 

“Wait!” Laura grabs at his arm ignoring the warning look she receives from Scott. “My brother did not mean to insult you. He has been sheltered and does not know how to interact with those outside of his family.” 

 

“Well I pity the people of Selenis,” Stiles sighs before turning back towards the queen “I do not place the blame on you for your brothers behavior, you have been very kind but I must go and meet the rest of my guests.” Stiles gently pulls his wrist from her grasp and moves away from them. As he turns to head into the crowd he would later swear that he saw the queens eyes go red as a hell beast as she berated her brother. 

 

* * *

 

 

     Stiles is listening to yet another alpha drone on about what a great mother he would be when he spots prince Derek heading towards him from the corner of his eye. Stiles quickly tunes back into the conversation and attempts to look interested when Derek comes to a stop to Stiles left. Stiles pretends not to notice, even going so far as to subtly angle his body away from the unwanted alpha. When Derek obnoxiously clears his throat for the third time, however, Stiles has no choice but to acknowledge him. Turning around he pasted on a smile that no one would believe is real before addressing the man. 

 

“I’m sort of busy with…” he hesitates over the alphas name glancing at the man for help. 

 

“Theo Raekin, your highness,” the alpha says with barely concealed anger. 

 

“Yes, Theo,” Stiles says placing a calming hand on Theo’s arm,” you’re welcome to speak to me when I am finished.” Stiles directs towards Derek, who huffs before turning away. 

 

     The night wears on and Stiles is hiding in a corner when Lydia finds him. She is wearing a gown in a burnished copper color that seems as if fearies have made it personally for her. Lydia looks down at Stiles sitting on the floor like a common beggar and sighs daintily. 

 

“Look, I tried Lyds, I swear I did but none of these alphas are right!”

 

“Stiles-“ 

 

“No, I know what you are going to say; ‘how can you know when you’re sitting back here in a corner’” Stiles imitates almost hysterically, “but I know. This ball was a bust.”

 

“Stiles, I don’t care if none of these alphas are your soulmate but there are some that are tolerable. It may not have been what you wanted or even expected but you can’t give up.” 

 

“They’re all after my money or just want me to shut up and pop out babies. I can’t give up who I am, not even for Beacon,” Stiles says dropping his head into his arms crossed over his legs. He can feel tears welling up and for the first time since he presented he feels truly helpless. Being crowned prince will not save him from a lifetime of servitude and childbearing if he marries the wrong alpha, and based on this ball it seems that those are his only options. 

 

“Listen to me Stiles,” Lydia says her green eyes hardened as she looks down on him, refusing to join him on the floor, “We all have to put on airs, do you think half the omegas you’ve met like being dismissed as airheads and cattle meant to pop out babies and nothing more? Sometimes you’ve got to put on an act, and yes it’s awful and it’s humiliating but you have to do what you can to survive.” 

 

“I don’t think I can do it,” Stiles says his words muffled by his pants. The idea of spending the rest of his life stifled and put into a box only taken out to be shown off as a good obedient omega trained like a dog grates on him. 

 

“For God’s sake Stiles not everything is about you. If you allow some half brained alpha to take over the throne what do you think is going to happen to you? To us? If you cannot do this for yourself then at least do it for the rest of us,” Lydia hisses at him. She pulls up her skirts and with one last withering glare at Stiles she heads back into fray. 

 

     Stiles sighs pathetically and decides that it is time to get up. He has only been an omega for 8 months and it has drained him, Lydia has been an omega for her entire life always raised in that role. Whether he likes it or not she has a point, and far more experience than him. If he does not find an alpha tonight then he is dooming all omegas to this fate, as of right now he is the only one in a position to change how they are treated and he cannot take this moment to be selfish. 

 

     Quickly brushing off the seat of his pants Stiles takes one last deep breath before he pushes his way back into the ball. 

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, are you okay?” Erica asks pretending to offer him a mini meat pie from her tray. 

 

“Yea, I just needed a moment,” Stiles says lazily shoving the food into his mouth looking forlorn as he watched the grease drop down his wrist. He contemplates licking it off in a decidedly common manner when Erica judges him. 

 

“Broody eyebrows is staring at you again,” 

 

Stiles finally gives into the temptation of rolling his eyes as he notices Prince Derek stalking across the room towards him. 

 

“Should I leave you two alone,” Erica questions waggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

 

“No, if I’m to put up with his murderous looks I should at least get to gorge myself,” Stiles responds carelessly picking up yet another meat pie. 

 

“Can I talk to you Prince Mieczyslaw?” 

 

“Go right on ahead, Prince Derek of Selenis,” Stiles says sucking the juice off of one of his fingers. Derek’s eyebrows get pinched in the middle as his frown deepens and Stiles tamps down on the urge to grin smugly at making the man uncomfortable. 

 

     Derek darts a look towards Erica, seemingly concerned before looking back at Stiles, as he opens his mouth to speak Erica drops the tray in as her hands fly down to grip the edge of the table they are standing near. 

 

     Derek is around the table in a flash, putting his arms around her shoulders as he helps guide her to the floor, the scowl never leaving his face. Stiles straightens in alarm, turning towards his friend as her face whitens and she begins to jerk as though possessed by some unholy beast. All eyes in the ball are on the group but Stiles pays them no mind immediately crouching beside her. Despite Prince Derek’s help Stiles looks up and sees his nose wrinkled in disgust as though Seeing a servant in such manner has ruined his appetite. Fighting back a frown of his own Stiles looks down to see that Erica has wet herself. 

 

“Scott go get the medic, immediately, the rest of you clear out the ball,” Stiles directs towards his guards who had immediately come rushing when they heard the commotion. Stiles looks on helplessly as his friend shakes. 

 

Lydia and Queen Laura rush to their sides as the rest of the ball clears out. 

 

“Back up,” Lydia snaps, “give her room.” 

 

“Should I get a spoon for her mouth? My ma used to do that for my cousin who was coursed with the disease,” one guard suggests. 

 

“No! Go grab one of the other servants and tell them to bring a change of clothing immediately. They are to bring it to my rooms,” Lydia says immediately dismissing the man. 

 

After what feels like hours but was mere minutes at most the doctor arrives and leans down near her head. 

 

“Deaton, I’ve never seen her like this,” Stiles says “what should we do?” As if hearing his anguish Erica’s jerks begin to slow and Her harsh breathing begins to even out. 

 

“Prince Derek, you will bring her to Lady Martins rooms, after that you and Queen Laura may go on your way,” he says shooting the two a significant look that Stiles has no time to decode. 

 

    Prince Derek lifts her as though she is no lighter than a feather and Stiles feels a flash of envy before it is quickly overwhelmed by his concern. Erica lays like a doll in his arm her head lolling, and feet dangling as they rush through the halls. When they finally arrive in Lydia’s rooms Erica is gently lain on a chaise and Deaton wastes no time lifting up her eyelids to peer into her eyes. 

 

Laura and Derek hover with uncertainty in the doorway and Stiles sucks sucks his teeth at them. 

 

“Thank you for your help but you may go now,” he says his words teetering on the edge of impolite and rude. 

 

     Deaton pulls a small pouch of herbs from his bag that he opens up and wants beneath Erica's nose. She groans and Stiles turns back to her and watches as her eyes begin to flutter, he does not notice when the siblings of Selenis slip quietly out the door. 


	4. Chapter 4

“Stiles, I am fine,” Erica whines more than sick of his constant hovering. 

 

“Erica you collapsed at the ball, you need to stay and rest,” Stiles says loudly throwing his arms as if it would prove his point. Erica sits up and glares at him. 

 

“I have been like this my whole life, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want  _ this _ to happen,” she sweeps her arms out to encompass all of the mother henning that she has had to endure over the past 24 hours . 

 

“I’m just worried about you, you’re one of my best friends.” Erica deflates at his words and she seems so small to him. Normally larger than life and rarely without a wicked smirk on her face. Stiles suddenly feels lost in the face of her illness. Seeing her sit on Lydia’s chaise in oversized clothing, her hair drawn back into a messy ponytail, depriving them of her normally wild curls. 

 

“I am fine,” she stresses, “with the herbs Deaton gave me I am ready to return to work. It wouldn’t be fair to stay here. Besides if I stay any longer it will only fuel the rumors that I am your lover.” Erica grins wickedly at this, she loves how scandalized the court is at thinking stiles is with a beta woman. While the alphas are given leave to have a million bastards Stiles is seen as a whore for simply befriending Erica, made even worse that she is a servant. 

 

“Fine, I’ll let you go back to your rooms,” he shouts her a look as she moves the sheets to the side preparing to stand up, “ _ after  _ Deaton clears you.” Erica sits back down and rolls her eyes. She’d never admit it but it’s nice to have someone worrying about her, she hasn’t had someone fuss over her since she left home. Still, she’ll be glad when she can finally get back to her routine. 

 

* * *

 

 

“The king wishes to see you Prince Mieczyslaw,” one of the guards says to him as he exits Lydia’s rooms. Stiles holds back a sigh, already sure this is going to be about a complaint from the council. He is sure they have a lot to say about him ending the ball early to tend to his beta friend, and he just does not have the energy to deal with it while she is still lying on that chaise so pale and unlike herself. Still it’s much better to face this head on, stiles decides and heads straight to his father’s rooms. 

 

“Stiles,” John says warmly standing up to greet his son as he slips into his father’s rooms,”how is your friend doing?” 

 

“Better but Deaton says she still needs rest. How are you dad,” Stiles may be tired but he notices the lines in the corner of his eyes that seem more pronounced today. He is hiding something from Stiles that will make him unhappy, and not doing a very good job of it. 

 

John sighs heavily, gesturing for stiles to have a seat. 

 

“There was a storm yesterday, as you know, it got bad during the ball.”

 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Stiles is bewildered, he had thought he was coming in to get reprimanded from the council and his father wants to talks about the weather?

 

“Son, the snow,” John hesitated looking away from Stiles’ face,” it got really bad last night. Many of the alphas from the ball were unable to leave in the storm, we have offered them rooms of course, until it is safe for them to travel again.”

 

Stiles stares at his father with his mouth gaped open. If it weren’t something so upsetting to Stiles John would be joking that he could see almost clear to Stiles’ stomachs with how wide his mouth is. 

 

“Well, which ones stayed,” he exclaims flailing so hard he narrowly escapes hitting himself in the face which has begun to pinken in rage. 

 

“Just a few, Prince Derek of Selenis and his sister Queen Laura, Lord Deucalion, and a few others. It won’t be so awful Stiles,” John says trying to placate the boy. 

 

“Dad! I’m going to be stuck surrounded by a bunch of alphas who care nothing for me except what marrying me will bring them. I must entertain them when I never wanted them here to begin with!”

 

“Look at it this way, if you play nice with the alphas the council will get off your back for a while. It’s better this way, you’ll see,” Stiles glares at his father in disbelief. Deciding there is nothing he can say to end this nightmare Stiles gets up and heads towards the doors, slamming it behind him as he leaves. 

 

* * *

 

 

“I’ve been cleared for work now I have to go Stiles,” Erica says while she neatens Lydia’s rooms, hesitant to leave a mess for one of the other servants to clean. 

 

“Yes but if you leave I have to deal with everyone out there,” He pouts feeling comfortable joking now that Erica has made a full recovery. She punches him in the arm grinning when he winces and rubs at the sore spot. 

 

“They’re your guests, stop being a baby and go handle it,” Erica says before flouncing from the rooms. 

 

* * *

 

 

     Stiles is in the library studying the old laws of Beacon, or rather hiding as Lydia says with distaste whenever she finds him in there. The storm has done everything to defy him and has instead increased tenfold. Thick blankets of freezing cold snow has blanketed the country, even the trees bending and sagging under the enormous weight. 

 

     As Stiles stares through the windows of the library he can only be jealous of the trees, at least they get to be outside. Last winter he had gotten a particularly bad cough that lasted nearly 3 months, the cold had reached his lungs Deaton told them and the court has been wary of letting the only heir back out into the unforgiving elements ever since.  The door to the library thumps open startling Stiles out of his sullen reverie. 

 

“Lord Deucalion,” Stiles says inclining his head in respect,” how lovely to see you here. Is there anything I can help you with?” Stiles was not particularly fond of the blinded man but he was much preferred over the company of Matt Daehler who seemed to lurk around hoping to catch Stiles alone. 

 

“Prince Mieczyslaw, what a lovely surprise. Although I must admit that I had been told you liked to frequent the library and was hoping to run into you,” Deucalion says this with a charming smile but Stiles is only put off by the greedy look the man seems unable to hide. 

 

     Stiles lazily trails his fingers against the wood below the windows and watches as Deucalion curiously tracks the movement with a tilt of his head as if he can see it. 

 

“What would you like to speak about, Sir?” 

 

     Deucalion moves to take a seat while staring unnervingly at Stiles. While the man claims to be blind Stiles is finding it hard to believe, feeling trapped in his gaze no matter where he goes. 

 

“I would like to propose a deal. I know of your,” Deucalion pauses delicately tilting his head as if in thought, “  _ desire _ to remain unmated. Though I cannot see I am not blind to your situation.” He chuckles and Stiles stares at the man in disbelief. 

 

“If you choose me I will provide you power beyond your wildest dreams,” the man gracefully stands from his perch on the couch. He glides forward with the grace of a predator and Stiles has the uncanny feeling of a hare being caught in a foxes sight. Deucalion slows to a stop mere inches away from Stiles and he can feel the hairs on his arm rise with alarm. 

 

“I do not know what you mean,” Stiles says hoping to hide his fear behind confusion. 

 

“Stiles,  _ together _ we can rule Beacon the way it was meant to be. You are an incredibly bright young man and I would never put you in a box only to be taken out to be used as arm candy. This country will see a time of prosperity and greatness like never before with us at the helm, isn’t that what you want for your people” the man questions while circling Stiles like a particularly enjoyable puzzle. 

 

“Lord Deucalion I must-“ Stiles stops as Deucalion grabs hold of his hand between his, he feels the roughness of the mans palms, belying a lowly upbringing and Stiles wonders how he came to be such a respected noble. He stares as Deucalion brings his palm up to his lips, kissing it softly before releasing his hands 

 

“My dear, you do not have to decide now. All I ask is that you think about it.” With those words Deucalion sweeps out of the room, leaving Stiles more than a little confused. 

 

* * *

 

 

     Stiles is sitting in The Room, although this time it is voluntary. He kicks his gets against the legs of his chair while twirling a pen around. 

 

“I don’t know, maybe he is a good choice. He’s the only one who has even bothered to speak to me as if I have a brain.”

 

Scott shrugs before looking helplessly at Lydia who rolls her eyes before speaking.  

 

“I know I told you to find someone you can tolerate but I don’t trust him. For a blinded man he is awfully comfortable in such an unfamiliar place, even in rooms he has never been in he seems to always know where everything is,” Lydia says almost hesitantly, as if she does not want to call a blind man a liar. 

 

“Do you think he is pretending, perhaps to gain sympathy,” Scott questions from where he is leaning against the wall in a poor imitation of guarding stiles. 

 

“But why, that is not something that would endear many omegas to him. No matter how handsome he is. Perhaps he has been here before.” Stiles shrugs as if to dismiss their comments but the imperceptible tightening of his lips below his worry. It is not uncommon, after all, for alphas to try and deceive omegas in order to trick them into an unfavorable mating. 

 

“Either way, I don’t trust him,” Lydia says looking at stiles, who sighs heavily. Slumping even further into his chair he whines, 

 

“I’m  _ never _ going to find a mate.”

 

* * *

 

 

     The moon is high in the sky, full and round shining it’s pale light through Stiles windows. He turns from his side onto his back, then onto his side again before rolling onto his stomach. Shoving his face in the wrinkled pillow he screams and bangs his fists like a toddler. He has been trying to sleep for hours and nothing has worked, and tomorrow he is supposed to have his first meeting with the alphas stuck in the castle with him. Sitting up he scrubs his fingers through his hair before flinging the covers of off him. 

 

Stiles swings his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as his feet hit the cold floor before shoving his feet into a pair of riding boots and throwing on a coat. If he cannot sleep then he is going to see his mare, Deaton be damned. 

 

     He hurries out of his room ignoring the guard who jumps up from where he was leaning against the wall half asleep. As he opens the door the wind bites through his meager clothing and he starts to shiver immediately. He sucks in a fortifying breath before continuing his trek to the stables. 

 

When Stiles is just outside the stable doors he hears someone talking. Pushing the doors slightly open he peaks through the cracks to see Derek brushing his mare. 

 

“It’s tough being out in this cold, huh. I bet you’d love it back in Selenis. None of this awful snow piling up and keeping us locked up all day.” 

 

     Stiles leans against the doors and listens as Derek tells the horse all about Selenis, all while brushing her coat in calm rhythmic strokes. He only goes in when the snow has seeped up his pajama pants wetting his legs and causing his teeth to chatter unflatteringly. Derek looks up when he bursts through the doors, a frown marring his face as though Stiles was stranger lurking in other people’s stables in the middle of the night. Stiles would sigh if he were able to do anything other than shake uncontrollably. 

 

“How long were you out there? Jesus, it’s freezing.” Derek huffs while rushing to pull out a blanket that Stiles had stashed there from the last time he decided to go on a last minute picnic. Derek wraps stiles in the blanket, pulling it right before drawing him further into the stables away from the doors. 

 

“N-not long I don’t think. I d-d-didn’t want to interrupt you.” Stiles says over the chattering of his own teeth. Derek rolls his eyes before his face grows impassive again. 

 

“These are your stables. You should have come inside, now you will get sick.” They sit together in silence for a few moments while Stiles’ guard shoots wary looks at Derek. Stiles knows that before the days end tomorrow every will think he and Prince Derek are seeing each other. 

 

“So, tell me about Selenis,” Stiles says and Derek hunches over, startled at the sudden burst of words in the silence of the stables. 

 

“It is warm, much more so than here.” 

 

“Well,  _ yea _ , but you must miss it. Being trapped here can’t be easy and I don’t know. I thought it might help to talk about it, like you were doing with Shadow.” For the first time since they had met Stiles sees a smile break out on Prince Derek’s face, and sure it may be at his expense but it is breathtaking. When the man isn’t communicating solely through eyebrows he is a sight to behold and Stiles does not think he could survive it, heavens forbid, this man actually laughed in his presence. 

 

“You named your mare  _ Shadow _ ?” Prince Derek asks incredulously, his thick brows rising towards his forehead. Stiles tries to sniff imperiously, lifting his nose up in a poor imitation of superiority, that is only made more laughable by the snow soaked pajamas peeking out from beneath his straw covered blanket. 

 

“It’s Countess Shadow of the Highland Night Bringers, and I’ll thank you kindly to use her proper title, Prince Derek.”

 

Derek smiles at Stiles, ducking his head before he smoothly stands up, extending a hand towards the omega. 

 

“We should head back to the castle, it won’t get any warmer in here and you should see a doctor,” he says almost apologetically. Stiles nods silently and rises much less gracefully, his legs get tangled up in the overly large blanket causing him to trip. With his arms trapped tight inside the blanket he has nothing to break his fall and squeezes his eyes shut while he braces for an impact which never comes. He blinks his eyes open to find Prince Derek has steadied him. He blinks owlishly, looking into eyes that seem as clear as a pond in the light of the moon. 

 

“Thank you,” Stiles breathes out hardly above a whisper. Derek simply inclines his head and leads Stiles out of the stables, his warm grip burning into Stiles through the blanket. He doesn’t let go until they are safely inside of the castle. 

 

* * *

 

  
  


     Stiles stands before the council and fights to keep his expression neutral. It has been two days since he found Derek in the stables and the castle has found rejuvenation in idle gossip. As an omega and heir to the throne he is sure they have called him here to be reprimanded. 

 

“Prince Mieczyslaw, what progress have you made in finding a mate.” A woman questions, her clear voice ringing throughout the councils chambers. 

 

“All is going well,” he says vaguely not wanting to give them any more information. 

 

“We are mere months away from your heat and you don’t seem to be looking for a mate,” a thin dark skinned man says, his words are matter of fact but he has has been kind to Stiles. He had always turned a blind eye to Stiles shenanigans and he knows that this councilman only wants what is best for Beacon. Stiles Ignores this and remains defiant. 

 

“I have met with the alphas in the castle and will continue to do so. I will not rush into choosing someone who might harm Beacon.” Stiles says meeting the eyes of the council one by one. While many of them only want to see Beacon prosper, there are some who only wish to ensure that an omega not take the throne without a strong alpha to keep him in place and he refuses to bow in the face of their prejudice. 

 

“Mieczyslaw, having clandestine meetings in the stables are not quite what we have in mind nor is being holed up with the help all day,” a stout man says his anger causing his pale face to purple unflatteringly. 

 

     The king brings his fists down causing the rooms occupants to stare. Normally a level headed man it was rare to see such an act of anger, but he has always held a soft spot for the wayward prince. 

 

“Councilman that was uncalled for, and I won’t have you speaking to the Prince like that,” the scolded man bows his head in false deference. 

 

“Stiles, in order to find an alpha that is compatible with you, you must be actively looking. The months will fly by and you must have a mate chosen before your heat or forfeit your right to the crown.” His words ring with finality but the grimace on his face speaks of how much he disagrees with the council. 

 

    Stiles looks around the chambers noting the faces. While some appear sympathetic many are smug, clearly happy with the omega being put in his place. 

 

“I will find an alpha worthy of Beacons trust. I promise,” he says bowing shallowly and turning to exit the room.  


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some ableist language in this chapter, it's one line but if you're concerned let me know.

     Stiles sits in The Room and thinks of how his life has become this. There is a platter of food sitting enticingly in the center of the table that he is not allowed to touch until the alpha has arrived. He glances at the grandfather clock sitting in the corner and sprawls uncomfortably in his chair. They have been waiting for alpha Deahler for the past twenty minutes and he has yet to arrive. While Stiles has no intentions of picking the alpha in the first place this has solidified his dislike of the man. He is just sitting up the grab a cracker and slice of cheese from the platter when Daehler strolls through the door. Looking at Stiles outstretched hand he smirks and pulls out his seat. 

 

“Eating without me, beloved?” 

 

“You are late and I am hungry,” is all Stiles says before he piles the cracker with cheese and dried berries from the summer. The cook has even scrounged up some of the last of falls apples and sliced them for the meeting. 

 

“It is an omegas duty to wait for their alpha,” He responds with a frown on his face. Stiles looks askance at the man, shocked at such boldness. 

 

“Well I guess it is a good thing you are not my alpha,” Stiles says snottily no longer bothering to feign interest in the man. He is surprised when the alpha begins to laugh. 

 

“Foolish omega, can’t you see? I am the only choice. One is a cripple and no one would allow you to choose him to rule this country, and the other can hardly stand to be around you. We all know about the deadline, if you are to have your crown then you will mate with one of us stuck in this castle.” 

 

Stiles drops his food onto the table and pushes his chair back which loudly scrapes against the floor. 

 

“I would rather lose the crown than ever be mated to you, and you had better hope the snow has thawed enough because you are to be out of  _ my _ castle by sun down tomorrow. As Stiles moves to leave the room Daehler reaches out to grab his arm when Scott pulls out his sword halting the movement. 

 

“If you wish to keep that hand you will refrain from grabbing Prince Mieczyslaw.” Stiles exits the room with Daehlers glare burning into him the entire way. 

 

* * *

 

 

     Stiles sighs as he changes into warmer winter clothing. Though he and Prince Derek have been much more cordial since their first meeting he is in no mood to meet with the man after the days disaster. Refusing to let Daehler spoil his plans he gathers his furs around him and heads towards the doors. 

 

“Prince Mieczslaw, thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” Derek says with a slight bow. The alpha pulls open the wooden doors and gestures for him to go through, and Stiles marvels at the ease in which he pulled the doors he knows to be quite heavy. Stiles readjusts the muffs that had been forced over his ears and steps into the cold, happily breathing in the frigid air. 

 

     It has finally stopped snowing and much of the land lay covered in white that glittered blindingly as the sun shone down. Stiles quickly kicks through the snow, his laughter breaking through the pristine scene. Prince Derek catches up to him easily, not slowed by the heavy furs and boots that Stiles is burdened with. 

 

“I know your council has been interested in your meeting with the alphas staying in the castle. I hoped that this would be an excuse to get us both out of there for a short while.” 

 

“Prince Derek, this is wonderful! I hated being cooped up in there. Last winter I snuck out and got dreadfully sick, I am surprised they allowed even a brisk walk across the grounds.”

 

“I must admit this was more for my sanity than yours,” The alpha days with a bashful smile, “I could not bare another day with only my sister for entertainment.”

 

“What a scoundrel you must be to speak so lowly of a woman, much less your queen,” Stiles responds with mirth in his eyes. 

 

“Trust me, if you had been stuck with her as I, there is no doubt you would go crazy.” 

 

“As a gentlemen I cannot say that I agree.”

 

Derek smiles at his playful nature and they continue their walk in silence. They enjoy the stillness that the snow has brought to the land and feel no need to fill the silence with meaningless words. It is only once Stiles begins to shiver under his furs that Derek subtly guided them back towards the castle. 

 

“I wish I could stay out here forever.” 

 

“I don’t think the council would like that very much,” Derek responds playfully. Stiles scowls, his face going a deeper red than from the cold. 

 

“If it were up to the council I would never have any joy.” 

 

“I’m sure they only want what is best for you and Beacon,” Derek has his eyebrows scrunched together and his lips turned downward. Stiles hates that he finds it cute. 

 

“Of course an alpha would think that. These stifling rules and regulations are always just for the best. It’s not as though omegas have a mind of their own.” Stiles stomps angrily towards the castle, no longer interested in staying outdoors. 

 

“Prince Mieczyslaw, that isn’t what I meant! Please,” Derek calls out, hurrying to catch up with the furious omega. 

 

“You don’t even like me Derek,” he spits out forgoing the protocol of titles in his anger, “you’re only doing this because your queen said so. Well now you don’t have to. I refuse to be some stupid omega housewife. Beacon is mine!” 

 

Derek watches helplessly as Stiles struggles through the snow. The younger man reaches the castle and steps in without a backward look and he winces as the guards eye him suspiciously. Shoulders hunched he trudges through the snow, with nothing but the wind howling in his ears for comfort. 

 

* * *

 

 

     Dinner is an uncomfortable affair with Stiles clearly sulking and none of the alphas willing to try after facing his acerbic comments earlier in the night. Many of the council stare, hardly touching their food as though their distaste in the princes behavior has ruined the meal for them. 

 

     Sighing Stiles pushes at the half eaten chicken on his plate. He pushes it around lazily as he waits for the perfect moment to excuse himself, which unfortunately never comes. 

 

     Their plates are loaded with dessert, a thick cake covered in cream, berries, and honey. It is a decadent dish that Stiles knows the cook must have done especially for him. It brightens his mood considerably and he tucks in with gusto. Deucalion, seeing his opportunity, strikes while stiles mouth is stuffed full of cream and berries. 

 

“Prince Mieczyslaw I know that we had plans for tomorrow but I was hoping that we might take a walk around the castle to work off the lovely meal we have had.” 

 

Stiles shook his head, clearly trying to say ‘NO’ around the food in his mouth, but his struggles were ignored. 

 

“Thank you for appeasing me. I do so look forward to our time together,” Deucalion says smugly before standing up and being led out of the room. 

 

* * *

 

 

     The Room has been cleared and space made in preparation for tonight’s event. Seats have been placed in the corners making the fairly comfortable room look even more cozy. Stiles has no clue why they have chosen this specific room, as a walk about it will make them look as though caged animals. He has no time to ponder as he must enter the room. As Stiles walks in Deucalion appears and holds out his elbow. Stiles gently grasps it and they begin their tour around the room. 

 

“I know that you would rather be anywhere but here, but I am hoping to change your mind,” Deucalion murmurs lowly. 

 

“I don’t know what you mean Lord Deucalion, I am pleased that you wish to spend time with me,” Stiles responds politely, the plastic smile on his face not moving an inch. 

 

“Daehler has shown his arrogance and you have all but banished him from the country, and Prince Derek seems to have angered you more than he pleased you on the walk outdoors today. It is clear to me that these alphas cannot offer you what I can. My only hope is that you see this before it is too late.” 

 

Stiles hesitates for a moment, the eyes of the entire room seeming to perk up on the small misstep. Clearing his throat he continues as though nothing was amiss. 

 

“I still do not know what you have to offer Beacon that other alphas cannot. I will not simply fall for the first man who knows to treat me as his equal.” 

 

“You are intelligent. I appreciate that in a mate. I can show you my,” Deucalion paused weighing his words before continuing “capabilities when it comes to providing and protecting Beacon, however I must ask for something in return.” 

 

“You May ask.” 

 

“I only ask for your understanding.” 

 

“Then you shall have it.”


	6. Chapter 6

     Stiles awakes to the moon lowering behind pale pink clouds and a harsh knock on his door. He burrows under the covers, hoping that if he ignores the noise it will go away. The knocks only become louder and more insistent. 

 

Stiles flings the blankets from his body, wrestling angrily with the sheets that he is entangled with before forcing his feet into slippers. Approaching the door he flings it open, or he would have if the heavy wooden doors would bend to his strength. 

 

“I do apologize, your highness, but the council has requested your presence immediately.” 

 

“Am I allowed to dress first or shall I join them in my night clothes,” Stiles daily’s acidly. 

 

The messenger tries to stammer out a response but Stiles has already closed the door in his face. If the council is to wake him up before the sun has even greeted the land then he will certainly take his time making himself presentable. The old cows can rot for all he cares. 

 

* * *

 

 

     Stiles sweeps into the council room, a long pale blue coat billowing out behind him dramatically. He has chosen to pair the jacket with beige pants that hug his legs deliciously, almost scandalously showing off his form. He has pulled on calf skin boots that reach his knees and are most uncomfortable, however they are the height of fashion and one must suffer to look good. Or so Lydia claims. His white shirt is high in the neck of the alpha style but he has never conformed to omega standards. 

 

As he stands there allowing the council to look at him in all his glory he notices what appears to be a peasant woman standing to the side. She appears to be heavily pregnant but he cannot scent an alpha on her, not with all of the council members fluttering around. 

 

“I have been woken in a most obscene way, what is the meaning of this?” Stiles rarely needs to remind people that he is the crowned prince of Beacon but has found it is most needed when communicating with the council. His father is noticeably absent and Stiles hardens his resolve to act like a jackass in the face of such blatant disrespect. 

 

“Stil- Prince Mieczyslaw,” the councilmen corrects herself,  Lady Yukimura has always had a soft spot for him, often letting her daughter and him play together when they were bored in the castle. 

 

“We have an omega here with an alarming claim about one of your suitors.” Stiles eyes dart to the woman who is doing her best to appear pathetic before his eyes slide back to the council. 

 

“Where is my father, to hear such an alarming tale?” 

 

“He has gone to retrieve the alpha. We thought it best not to send the guards in this situation.” 

 

Stiles brows furrow and his hands lift towards his mouth so he can bite the skin before he remembers where he is. 

 

“And what is so alarming that you felt the guards need to be involved?” At this the woman steps forward, her belly proudly held in front of her. 

 

“I am pregnant and it appears my alpha has come to court you.”

 

Stiles stares at the woman in shock. She appears to be almost proud of her claim, happy to barge in and announce that one of the alphas courting her is a scoundrel. He turns away from her smug grin and looks at the council, for once in his life at a loss for words. 

 

“Has anyone verified this woman’s claim,” he sputters indignantly. 

 

“She is quite clearly pregnant, your highness, with no alpha smell on her. What else should we deduce from her statement?” 

 

“She could be lying! Who is the alpha she claims to have impregnated her,” Stiles demands furiously. 

 

Just then the door swings open and Stiles turns around to see his father striding in. He looks worn, the lines of his face more pronounced in the early morning light, the grays in his head seem more pronounced, and the thin lipped grimace he sports does nothing to assuage Stiles’ fears. 

 

Stiles barely has a moment to catalogue his father’s face before the alpha walks in behind him. He is hunched in on himself, making the claim seem rather damning from that alone. He refuses to meet Stiles’ eyes as he walks in as if he is heading to his own death. The woman notices him and flings herself toward him. 

 

“Derek! Why have you forsaken me alpha?” 

 

The words are barely out of her mouth when Laura steps in front of him as if to protect the burly prince of Selenis from a heavily pregnant omega. Queen Laura bares her teeth at the woman and Stiles would swear that he saw her eyes flash as red as a demons. 

 

The guards jump into action, afraid that the visiting queen will harm the omega seeking their help. Derek steps beside her and finally meets his eyes. 

 

He looks afraid, and somehow heartbroken. Stiles looks away. 

 

“Is this how you treat guests in your home King Stilinski,” Laura calls out. She is surrounded by guards, separating her from the pregnant omega. She looks fierce, standing as though she allows the guards to contain but could easily break free if she wishes. 

 

“Do you seek to harm those who might come to Beacon asking for help,” the king responds. 

 

“I seek only to protect my brother and Selenis from those who would cause grievous damage to them without remorse.” 

 

“And you believe this omega wishes to harm the prince or your country,” Stiles asks at the outrageous claim. No omega would willing put themselves through the humiliation this omega is sure to face unless it was an absolute necessity. 

 

“I do.” Laura lifts her chin in defiance as the entire court erupts in chaos. Many doubting an omega could ever be so deceptive not accepting that the queen would not simply lie to save her brothers reputation. Many alphas would step out on their omegas, but to blatantly court another while your omega was pregnant was something unthinkable. 

 

“Enough, enough,” a voice shouts above the din. 

 

“Prince Derek, do you know this woman,” Deaton asks. He is of common birth but the king insisted he be on the council after his invaluable years as a healer and confidant. 

 

Derek steps forward and Stiles notes the severe frown on his sisters face as the move brings him closer to the omega. 

 

“I do.” 

 

“He admits it from his own mouth! He mustn’t be allowed to court the young prince.” 

 

“Enough! Let the man speak before you all cast judgment,” the king demands before turning towards The prince of Selenis once more, “how do you know of this omega, son?” 

 

Here Prince Derek pauses, his brows nearly merge into one single line and his nostrils flare. He shoots an angry look at the woman and Stiles wonders if he is an omega beater. 

 

“She has been to Selenis before. She is an Argent.” The council leans forward, clearly waiting to hear more but Derek merely purses his lips and says nothing. 

 

“And how has she come to claim you as her mate? Is this true?” Another council member shoots at him. 

 

“No,” he says with a ferocity that has Stiles stepping back. Laura notices and steps forward, laying a calming hand on Stiles’ shoulder. 

 

“My brother and this _woman_ ,” Laura says with barely concealed disgust, “are not mated, nor will they ever be. Argent has hopes of gaining access to our land and coin and when her plan was thwarted she has turned to less savory tactics.” 

 

Deaton speaks up again, “what do you have to say against the queens claims, omega?” 

 

“Derek has not mated with me because the queen won’t allow it. We fell in love during one of my visits to Selenis, and once she found out that I was with child she threw me out like a _dog_ ,” Stiles watches as the omega shoots a nasty grin towards the queen. She is very careful to never let the council see anything more than a pathetic helplessness on her face but it is beginning to look like a show to him. 

 

“When my father found out that I was with child he stripped me of my titles. I was at the mercy of the people of Selenis and still they did not accept me as their own. Now Derek has moved onto a new omega and I have no alpha to support me.” 

 

The council looks furious, to hear an omega so cruelly treated and turned away with no chance of survival is enough to make the alphas shoot heated looks at Derek. Stiles knows that if he were not the Prince of Selenis that one of the council members would have challenged him over this, and he is somewhat graceful that he will not have to watch alphas fight on this already miserable day. 

 

The king holds up his hands, silencing the angry grumbles of the court. 

 

“Prince Derek, is there any possibility that the child could be yours?” 

 

Derek takes a deep breath and looks the king in the eye, and says with finality 

 

“No.”

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles lay with his head pillowed in Lydia’s lap. She would not normally allow such loathing and self wallowing to go one but she knows that Stiles is feeling more trapped than ever. 

 

“Perhaps the woman is lying,” she suggests softly combing through the tangles in his hair. 

 

Stiles scoffs at that. 

 

“What omega would embarrass themselves like this for an alpha that was not their mate? What would be the point?” 

 

“Just because you don’t know of a reason does not mean that you are right,” Erica chides gently from where she is sewing in the corner. 

 

“Your answers lay with Prince derek, you’ll never know if you don’t ask,” Lydia says gently. She is not forcing the subject now but Stiles knows that she will not be so gentle in the future if he continues to whine while doing nothing. 

 

This is what leads Stiles to be outside in the miserable cold later that afternoon. The pristine white snow has turned into an unpleasant grey slush that slaps onto his ankles chilling his bones, no matter how many layers he has on. Stiles is almost dressed as a beggar, were it not for the high quality of the fabrics he is bundled in. Erica suggested he dress more fashionably but Stiles is glad to have ignored her, the wind alone would have torn through any of the lighter fabrics that is customary for omega fashion. Coupled with the snow Stiles doubts he would have made it even halfway to the stables before succumbing to his death. 

 

Arriving at the doors to the stables Stiles only pauses for a second, the icy wind preventing him from stalling for any longer, before he uses his shoulder and shoved open the heavy doors. The wind assists him and the door slams against the wall, startling the horses and the person brushing his stallion. 

 

“Sorry, sorry!” Stiles shouts over the howling wind. He has a second to think that perhaps he should’ve taken a moment to notice the dark storm clouds up above before leaving the warmth of the castle. He fights with the door, pushing with all his might does nothing to close up the stables from the storm. Stiles huffs in frustration and let’s out some expletives that are certainly not becoming of the omega Prince of Beacon, grateful that the howling wind drowns out his voice. 

 

He feels a warmth behind him as the alpha adds his weight to the door, helping to push it closed. 

 

The alpha mutters an apology and steps back. Stiles hates that he misses the warmth, gathering himself he turns around. 

 

“Derek,” he says forgoing all formalities, “I had hoped to see you here.” 

 

“Mieczyslaw,” Derek nods. Stiles doesn’t bother to correct him, not wanting the alpha to get too comfortable if he truly is mated to someone else. 

 

Stiles takes a seat on the stool used for checking the pregnant mares waiting to see what Prince Derek will do. After a moment of hesitation the alpha sits on the ground in front of him, but not before he checks the ground to make sure it is clear of any manure. 

 

“I assume you want to know about Kate,” Derek asks. Stiles nods, noticing the casual way he refers to the omega. 

 

“As she said earlier, she and her family came to Selenis for treaty talks. Our families have been at war for as long as we can remember, but my mother had hoped to change that. Kate claimed she was different from her family, that she did not want to be at war with us any longer. And I believed her,” Derek takes a deep breath here and Stiles watches as he seems to fight with himself. 

 

“My parents and half of my family were asleep when the fire started. My sister and I barely escaped. We knew the Argents were responsible for it but we had no proof. We ended the treaty negotiations and sent them away. Kate has never been satisfied with us surviving the fire, and I believe that this is only another ploy to end our family.” 

 

Stiles’ mouth gapes open in shock. Everyone knows about the tragedy that befell the Kingdom of Selenis many years ago but it had always been spoken about as a horrible accident. He never would have thought that it could have been an act of war. 

 

“What reason would the Argents possibly have to do such a thing? Why are you so sure it was them? Why does Kate claim you as her alpha?” All of the questions come spilling out of Stiles mouth, almost beyond his control. He has no clue what to think of these two claims but both are equally heinous and he intends to find the truth. 

 

“I know because my parents were trapped. If there had been a way to escape they would have,” Derek says with a ferocity that startles Stiles. He is suddenly reminded of how young the prince was when the tragedy befell him, only 16 years old it must have been a hard event to cope with, not only losing ones parents but _half_ of the royal family. 

 

“It happened while they were asleep, they couldn’t have known until it was too late,” Stiles says gently. 

 

Derek starts to say something before looking away. 

 

“What aren’t you telling me?” Stiles demands, standing up with such anger that he knocks the stool over behind him. 

 

Derek turns to face him and Stiles would swear that his eyes flashed blue. 

 

“I know that my parents tried to get out because we found them at their door. Someone had trapped them in there and it was Kate who did it.” 

 

“What proof do you have? We can have her imprisoned and tried before the council!” 

 

“No one is going to imprison an omega, especially a pregnant one. Don’t be foolish,” Derek spits stomping away from him. If we had anything we would have imprisoned all of the Argents long before this. 

 

“I don’t understand, what aren’t you telling me!” Stiles shouts stomping towards him. 

 

“I _can’t_ tell you!” He roars whirling around and glaring at Stiles. “I just, can’t,” he repeats, his voice breaking. 

 

Stiles doesn’t know why but for some reason he trusts Derek. He doesn’t hesitate to cross the stable and place his hand on the man's shoulder. 

 

“I believe you.”

 

The alpha seems to cave in on himself, shoulders hunching forward and his hands cover his face. Neither one moved as the seconds turned into minutes. Finally the alpha gathered himself and straightened up. 

 

“We should head back,” he muttered, shaking off everything that happened in the stable in seconds, “the council will be worried about you.”

 

Stiles snorts but allows the man this opportunity to escape, it won’t happen a second time. 

 

* * *

 

Derek enters his rooms and finds no relief. The staring eyes that followed him as he walked through the castle, he is used to pitying looks and even the lustful gazes of omegas and betas alike, but he does not know how to deal with disgust. The silence that follows him like a shadow, only to pick back up once they believe he is out of earshot. Not for the first time he hates the curse of the Hales. 

 

Laura sits on his bed, her back to him. She makes no move to greet him. 

 

“Did you bed her?” She questions with no inflection in her voice. She already knows the answer but she wants to hear it from him. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Laura turns towards him but doesn’t move to get up. 

 

“It wasn’t your fault, Derek.” 

 

“It was! She never would have know about the tunnels out of their rooms if I hadn’t told her.” 

 

Laura finally moves towards him, gripping his face in her hands. 

 

“We were all fools. We all believed the Argents wanted peace. If it is your fault then it also mine, and moms, and dads.” Her voice hitched but her eyes blaze red. Her brother was merely a child and this woman sought to take everything from him, including his peace of mind. 

 

Derek begins to sob, he had expected his sister to hate him, to force him to pay for what he had done to his family. 

 

“It’s not your fault and I’m going to make that bitch pay for everything she’s done to us! To you,” Laura vows then and there to kill Kate, consequences be damned. 

 

* * *

 

 

     Stiles walks from the stables in a daze, following the winding halls to his room by muscle memory alone. He is discarding yet another foolish plan to save Derek when a hand reaches out from the shadows and yanks Stiles into a dusty corner. 

 

He doesn’t even have time to take in air to scream before another hand clamps over his mouth. 

 

“Do not be alarmed, little one, I only wish to speak with you,” a voice says in a whisper. 

 

This only causes Stiles to stiffen and renew his fight for freedom, but the arms holding him are as tight as iron shackles and he cannot get enough leverage to twist away. 

 

His captor allows him to figure all of this out before speaking again. 

 

“You once promised to allow me to plead my case to you, I had hoped to give you time to come to me but I can no longer wait. I will see you in the stables in two days time. Come alone or else,” the voice murmurs before abruptly letting Stiles go and slipping into a servants corridor with a swirl of robes. 


	7. Chapter 7

     Stiles debates on whether or not he should inform Lydia about the alpha’s message in the corridor. While he is almost certain it was Deucalion he also does not think a blinded man could truly harm him. He also knows that if he tells Lydia then he will be forced to bring Scott along and if the man is capable of danger then Stiles will not be responsible for his friend coming to harm. 

 

     Stiles is also pondering the curious case of Derek and the omega Kate. The woman had been put up in one of their suites reserved for important guests, and she acted as though she ran the castle. Erica complained that all of the staff were being run ragged by a seemingly cruel omega. 

 

     While he had no reason to believe Derek was innocent, knowing far too well how alphas would treat their omegas when they believed they could get away with it, something just didn’t seem right about the woman. She played so sweet and innocent in front of Stiles and the court, but was cruel to the servants, and Stiles remembers seeing the nasty looks she shot the Queen and her brother. 

 

     Stiles sighed and slumped into a chair in The Room. He had forgone omega practice with Harris and this was the only place he could go without anyone finding him. Or so he hoped. Had he known being an omega was going to be this tough he might’ve chosen to join a convent instead. 

 

     So lost in thought Stiles does not hear the door creak open and someone shuffle in. He sighs loudly at his thoughts before bringing his thumb to his mouth to chew on the skin. He has a moment to lament the verbal lashing he will receive when they see the state of his hands. 

 

“Prince Mieczysław, what are you doing in here?” 

 

Stiles jumps at the voice before turning and greeting one of his biggest worries, 

 

“Lady Argent, please have a seat,” he gestures kindly while he curses the omega in his mind. 

 

“I must ask you the same, what brings you here today?”

 

“I’m afraid I have gotten a bit lost, your castle is quite large and I had hoped to find the kitchens for a small snack before lunch.” she simpers. 

 

“However did you end up on this side of the castle,” Stiles exclaims in surprise, “your rooms are all the way on the other side?” He swears he sees her lips pull back in a snarl before she catches  herself. It is then he remembers that Queen Hale and her brothers rooms are on this side of the castle. They had asked to be placed near the exit as they were very outdoorsy people, and the staff had accommodated. 

 

“I do not know, but it was very fortunate that I have run into you. I wanted to apologize for ruining the growing relationship between you and Derek. I have heard from the maids that you two were growing close,” she whispers sympathetically. 

 

“Oh now worries, Prince Derek and I barely know each other, there is nothing to apologize for my lady.”

 

“Oh I am so glad to hear you say that,”she gushes before awkwardly maneuvering around her stomach to grab onto Stiles’ hands, “I was hoping that you would see my plight and help me convince Laura to allow Derek and I to be together. I would hate for our child to be a bastard.”

 

Stiles flinches at such harsh language, how can an omega of noble upbringing be so callous in her language? Nothing about this situation made any sense and Stiles was beginning to have a headache just thinking about it. 

 

“I would love to be of any assistance, however Queen Hale and her brother are guests in our castle and I cannot interfere with the councils investigation. I do hope you find happiness, but there is nothing else that I can do.” With those final words Stiles stands up and heads for the door. 

 

Turning towards the nearest guard stationed in the hallway Stiles says  “Make sure Lady Argent finds her way back to her rooms and request a servant bring her some food.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles knocks twice on the door, sharp and sure, hiding the fast pace of his heartbeat and the sweat coating his palms. 

 

“Enter,” a high regal voice calls, and Stiles takes a deep breath before pushing the doors open. 

 

“Stiles, I did not expect to see you in our rooms. The castle will surely be talking before the sun has set.”

 

“Queen Laura, I am going out of my mind. What is it that you and derek aren’t telling me? I cannot help if I do not know the problem,” he states plainly. 

 

“Oh Stiles, there are things in this world that you do not know of, things that you could not possibly comprehend. It is not a problem for you to solve, all we ask is that you trust us and allow us handle this issue.” She pats his shoulder comfortingly but all Stiles feels is condescension. They have brought chaos into his castle and won’t even allow him to address the issue. 

 

“If you will not allow me to help then I will not fight the council on their decision,”he says with finality, “I will not interfere with their investigation, and should they choose to side with the omega you and your brother will be asked to leave. Good Luck Laura.”

 

* * *

 

 

     Stiles sits in The Room for the second time that day. This time he has had the servants set up and easel and some paints, an attractive skill for an omega to have is the art of painting. Stiles is no good at it, the fruits in his bowls more closely resemble piles of manure than actual fruit, but the council loves to hear he is putting in ‘effort’. He mindlessly dips his brush into whatever color is nearest and slaps in onto the sheet, mind on things far more pressing than a bowl of fruit. It is clear that the Argent woman and the Hales have history, but if they are unwilling to give him the information needed to make an informed decision then he must remove himself from the situation. This leaves stiles with only Lord Deucalion as a possible mate. While he does not love the man, nor does he love the tactics he employs to get Stiles attention, he does enjoy someone who is straightforward and sees him as an equal. 

 

With his mind made up Stiles returns his focus to the painting in front of him. His brows draw together as he puzzles out how he made an entirely brown page from the bright colors provided for him. Shrugging he resolves to turn it into a forest scene and goes back to painting. 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles bundles up in his warmest clothes and slinks out of the servants entrance in his rooms. He slips through the castle careful not to be seen, dropping from a window on the northern side of the castle. It is far from the stables, but also has less of a chance of him being caught sneaking out. He also makes a mental note to have security beefed up in this area before he remembers his task and slinks through the darkness towards his future. 

 

* * *

 

Stiles enters the stables and doesn’t bother to push the hoods back. The wooden building does little to protect from the fierce winds, and for a second he can swear he hears howling from outside. 

 

“I have come like you’ve asked, show yourselves and tell me what it is you want,” Stiles says feeling silly. The moonlight throws eerie shadows across the walls, and in the darkness all he can see is the shape of the horses moving about their stalls. While he is not quite unnerved he is sure he does not want to be there for too long. 

 

“Lord Mieczysław, I’m  glad that you have come,” a voice says from Stiles’ right. 

 

“Are you sure  _ he’s _ the one that will help us?” a voice questions from the left. Stiles whips his head around and begins to back up. 

“Now now, where do you think you’re going little prince,” A voice says from behind him. 

 

Cornered and alone Stiles feels his heart in his throat. Foolishly he left a weapon and there is no one to suspect he is not in his rooms, and no one to know where he went. 

 

“What do you want from me,” he snarls, eyes constantly darting around trying to catch a glimpse of the people surrounding him. 

 

“My dear, all I want is an opportunity to talk,” the original voice says. Stiles deduces that this man is clearly the leader of the thugs surrounding him. 

 

“Then why am I being surrounded, treated like a captive,” Stiles spits out. 

 

“That is simply for insurance. What I have to say will be quite shocking indeed, and I do not need you running off before we get to the good parts.”

 

Stiles does not know it but his entire world was going to change that night. 


End file.
